Vices
by StarCollector88
Summary: The guys make a bet to give up bad habits.
1. Chapter 1

"Can we have just one normal day? Is that too much to ask?"

Mike flopped down in a chair. He took his hat off and rubbed his face in frustration. He had spent his day getting all three of his roommates out of scrapes and he was at a loss of how to approach the anger that was welling up inside him.

"We have normal days Mike. Remember the time when…and there was that day last month…" Micky trailed off.

"I know just last week we had a perfectly normal day at the beach," Davy finished.

"Define normal," Mike challenged.

"Conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected," Peter claimed.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm defining normal."

Davy rolled his eyes and continued. "Nothing happened that was completely off putting."

"You and Micky got into a volleyball match with these guys and lost."

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Micky reiterated.

"And they turned out to be smugglers that were storing stolen goods into those volleyballs," Mike countered.

"And I think that's why we lost. The volleyballs weren't regulation," Micky scoffed.

"That wasn't too weird. It could have been worse," Davy offered.

"Yeah if the smugglers realized you were onto them before we had to take Peter back home when he was stung by that jellyfish," Mike bellowed.

"Oh yeah, now I agree with you Mike," Micky said. "That jellyfish sting really put a damper on things. Way to go, Pete."

Mike put his face back in his hands and shook his head. "Meanwhile I've spent my day running back and forth saving your behinds from one thing or another. I had to save Davy from a girl that was trying to get him to marry her so she could become a citizen. I can't even begin to tell you what was wrong with that scenario. Peter was in jail for having stolen goods…"

"That guy on the street asked me to hold his box. How was I supposed to know that he had just stolen all that stuff and was on the run?" Peter protested.

"And Micky had a 'brilliant idea' that has gotten us banned from the Vincent Van Gogh Gogh for life!"

"Well, I didn't know that they would be so touchy about having someone try to speed up their productivity."

"You put rockets on the food trays without telling anyone! There were plates, cups, and silverware flying all over the place!"

"I see what the problem is here," Davy chimed in. "All of this is your fault."

"My fault!" Mike yelled.

"Yes, you're always telling us we can't do things which make us challenge you and then you help us out of scrapes once we're in trouble. You're reinforcing our behavior."

Mike was fuming. How dare anyone blame their stupidity on him? Mike slowly began to stand up and reach his full height. Peter hid behind the spiral staircase. Micky moved out of the way knowing that he wasn't Mike's intended target. Mike approached Davy and squared up to the shorter man the best he could.

"Do you want to try explaining that to me again and choosing your words more carefully?" Mike said through gritted teeth.

Davy puffed out his chest. He was never one to back down from a fight. "I think you heard me the first time. You're always trying to parent us and then we feel the need to rebel. Rebelling has never done anyone any favors, so we end up in trouble. It's a classic case of rebellion."

Peter suddenly was wearing a helmet and ducked under the table with his fingers in his ears waiting for the explosion. Micky considered stepping in but thought better of it. Davy, bless his soul, was not backing down even though his knees were obviously buckling under him. Mike moved his neck from side to side cracking in loudly. Then he did something unexpected…he just walked away. He turned around and headed up the staircase into his bedroom.

Once he shut the door, the other three that had been holding their breath, finally started breathing again.

"What was that about?" Peter said crawling out from under the table.

"Yeah I was sure he was going to blow his stack. Why do you have to antagonize him like that?" Micky asked.

"I don't think it's fair that he blames us for everything when he is just as much to blame," Davy answered.

"I don't know maybe we need to take more responsibility for ourselves," Peter offered.

"Peter, sweet naïve Peter, we aren't nearly capable of something like that," Micky stated. "So what are we going to do about Mike having his wool hat in a twist?"

"Maybe he'll forget about it?" Peter said weakly.

All three laughed hysterically.

"We can't do anything unless we know where his head is at. Usually his reactions are predictable, but this one had thrown me through a loop," Davy answered.

"Yeah, Davy I think you may have defeated him and he doesn't know what to do," Micky half joked.

"No, it couldn't be that easy. Something else is going on in his mind. I guess we wait."

* * *

Micky, Peter, and Davy treaded lightly out of the downstairs bedroom. Micky had to admit that last night he was afraid to share a room with an unpredictably angry Mike. He had shared a bed with Peter and ended up being the small spoon, much to his chagrin.

Of course, Mike was already awake and at the table when they came out. No one knew exactly what kind of mood he would be in or what to even say. The three walked closely together afraid that if they separated Mike may strike one of them like a cobra. They continued to run into each other and get in each other's way as they rummaged around the kitchen for something to eat. Mike wasn't even looking at them as he was reading the newspaper.

"It seems like things would be easier if you weren't all so close together," he commented without looking up.

Peter took the lead since it seemed as though Mike could tolerate his shenanigans more than someone else's'. "Morning Mike, how did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time without Micky sawing logs next to me."

Peter looked confused. "Since when is Micky a midnight lumberjack?"

"Since he hasn't had much luck with the ladies," Davy quipped.

"I see yesterday's events haven't caused anyone's sense of humor to flounder," Mike noted.

"Can't let the man get you down," Micky answered.

"Am I the man?" Mike deadpanned.

Micky became nervous and backed up closer to Peter. "No, no, not you! You thought I meant you? Pshaw! I meant…uh…our uh…own antics."

"Nice save," Davy whispered sarcastically.

"About those antics," Mike continued, "I was thinking that we needed to hold a family meeting about that."

The three others felt like groaning but were too afraid of Mike at the moment. They all gathered around the table as Mike banged his gavel three times.

"The events of yesterday were inexcusable. I can't be expected to bail you guys out of every little mess that you make for yourselves."

"But you do such a good job at it," Peter said before Davy covered his mouth.

"Be that as it may, I realized Davy was right…"

The other three's mouths dropped open.

"…it is partially my fault that you all rely on me so much out get you out of sticky situations."

"Finally someone is making some sense around here," Davy replied.

"I've decided that I'm going to stop bailing you guys out of things…In fact I'm not going to give you any of my wisdom and advice at all."

"Pfft."

"Excuse me, Mick," Mike crossed his arms.

"There is absolutely no way you can keep your nose out of our business for an extended period of time. Davy has a better chance of not dating a girl before you don't give us advice."

"I don't need to date girls that badly!" Davy said with offense. "I could certainly hold out longer than Peter could not fall for some ridiculous ruse."

Peter looked hurt. "Are you calling me gullible?"

"I mean not gullible enough not to catch on to that."

"I'm may be gullible but at least I don't fall for my own 'brilliant ideas'."

"Ouch," Micky said clutching his heart.

"Face it we all have vices that we are guilty of. And if you're all planning on not doing anything stupid then I won't have to offer my recommendations," Mike said mater-of-factly.

"Care to make a wager on that?" Micky asked.

"What are you talking about?" Davy questioned.

"I propose we all give up our vices."

Mike snorted. "Really? You three would be willing to just quit your shenanigans cold turkey?"

"What does Thanksgiving have to do with anything?" Peter asked confused.

"This already looks promising," Davy said sarcastically.

"Why not? I know I can do it. Unless the rest of you are scared of a little competition…" Micky taunted.

"Ha! I have to beat you three! Piece of cake," Davy commented.

"For how long?" Peter wondered.

"Well, until there is only one of us left that can be announced the winner. The other three have to give in to temptation at some point," Micky responded.

"How am I gonna know if I'm being gullible?" Peter asked.

"That's a good question," Micky replied grabbing Peter's shoulders. "I guess just stay out of circulation."

"What would the stakes be?" Davy asked.

"Chores?" Peter offered.

"Oh please," Mike shot the idea down, "you three don't clean anything. How about setting up for gigs?"

"That's not fair to me. If I won it would barely be a prize," Davy complained. "What about money?'

"We don't have any!" Mike exclaimed.

"Cool it guys, I've got it," Micky said casually. "Since Mike had such a restful night, it only makes sense that the winner gets his own room and the losers all have to share."

The other three looked at each other contemplating the idea. Sure a solo room would be great, but the alternative was awful. It was already bad enough sharing with one person.

"That sounds like a terr—" the other three looked in Mike's direction. "You know what never mind. Count me in."

"I could bring back girls without worrying if Peter was in there. I'm in too!" Davy agreed.

"I'm looking forward to all the space I'll have for projects," Micky said thoughtfully, cracking his knuckles.

"I like sharing rooms though," Peter countered. "I don't like to be in the dark alone."

Micky put his arm around Peter. "Think of it this way, sport, you can have all that space for um…I honestly don't know what you do."

"Can I eat all the cotton candy I want in there?"

"Sure, I guess," Micky answered.

"Then I approve!"

"Let's shake on it," Micky said.

All four Monkees crisscrossed their arms to shake hands while becoming a tangled mess in the process.

"Let the games begin."


	2. Chapter 2

It was day five of the bet and it was already blatantly obvious that tempers were flaring. They were attempting to practice for a gig and it was clear that everyone's mind was somewhere else. They were missing cues, playing different songs, and gripping their instruments so hard it was a miracle nothing was broken yet. Mike was seething because he couldn't say anything that he wanted to say. He had to tread lightly to keep up his end of the bargain.

"What is happening?" Mike asked as gently as he could through gritted teeth.

"Off day, I guess," Micky said. "I feel wound up and all over the place. I have no outlet for all my energy and I'm taking it out on my drums. I suppose I'm going too fast."

"You think, Dolenz? No one can keep up with you!" Davy practically shouted.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Micky joked.

"Nothing! I'm just frustrated that's all."

"Aha, sexually frustrated?" Micky prodded.

"Shut up! You could take a lesson from Peter, he hasn't talked in days," Davy commented.

"That's because he doesn't want to say anything to get himself into trouble, right buddy?" Mike spoke for Peter.

Peter touched his nose with one finger and pointed at Mike with the other excitedly.

"Great, it's like living with a bloody mime," Davy grumbled. "Since Mike is clearly not giving up yet, I'm calling this rehearsal. It isn't working right now and everyone is getting irritable."

"Correction Tiny, you're getting irritable."

"Oh come off it, Mike. I know you're probably bursting at the seams too." Davy stormed off towards his room.

"Where are you going?" Mike called after him.

"To my room, I need to blow off steam."

"Why don't you go to the beach or something? Micky suggested. "Oh right, that would be indecent exposure."

"Not that you idiot!" Davy snapped. "You'd like that wouldn't you; I go to the beach with all the bikini clad bodies and trip up. It isn't going to happen! Until this thing is over I'm a recluse."

"I-" Mike began and stopped himself.

"What's the matter, Mike? Got something to say?" Micky urged.

Mike shook his head.

"I think maybe we shouldn't be changing our lives around for this bet. It's never going to end if we don't go about our daily routine. It will go on forever," Micky said.

Peter nodded hastily in agreement.

"Then so be it!" Davy ranted. "If Peter can be mute, than I can live in solitary confinement." With that he slammed the bedroom door.

"Jokes on him," Micky said to the others. "We're going to have a gig someday and there will be girls. He's just mad that he actually has to put in effort to win."

"He seems pretty angry, Mick," Mike stated.

"You know what that means though don't you? He will be the first to fold," Micky rubbed his hands together menacingly.

* * *

Davy and Peter were lounging in the living room. Mike and Micky went to the beach since neither one of them was nervous about breaking their vice out in public. They were both at greater risk for that at home. They all had decided together that a buddy system was appropriate to keep everyone honest about their comings and goings so Peter and Davy were avoiding their demons together…Although avoidance was proving to be difficult for Peter at the moment.

"Say, Peter, did you know that it is impossible to stick out your tongue and look up at the same time?" Davy asked.

Peter sat stone faced across the room and didn't move a muscle. He seemed tense like he was fighting with every fiber of his being not to try that out. Davy could see the nervous energy permeating from Peter and decided to keep it up.

"I guess we'll never know if you're an exception to the rule. Kind of like how you can lick your elbow. You can do that, right? Let me see."

Peter turned his head slightly towards Davy and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't budging. There was a knock at the door which made both men jump due to being on edge for the past few days. Davy got up to answer it.

"Hey Peter, your shoes untied," he said as he passed by and watched as the bassist did not even flinch to look downward. "You are a worthy opponent."

Davy opened the little window on the door to look out and couldn't see anything. He opened the door and a tall, blonde woman pushed her way inside. Davy's eyes were locked onto the woman at first but he quickly shook his head.

"Excuse me, what are you doing in here?" he demanded.

The woman whipped around and looked longingly at Davy. "I'm sorry to barge in but you all have just got to help me! My car has broken down and I need help fixing it so I can continue to follow this treasure map." She grabbed Davy's hands, "I need some strong men to help me fix the car and help me on my journey if you're…"

Davy looked at Peter who had not changed his position the entire time. This woman was laying on the damsel in distress act hard. It was almost laughable how dramatic she was being.

Davy wretched his hands away. "No, sorry we've been tricked into a treasure map before. Not falling for that one again."

Davy pushed the woman out the door. "Wait what about my…"

The woman was interrupted by Peter, who had abruptly gotten up and slammed the door closed. Davy clicked the door locked. Both men sighed heavily and leaned up against the door and slid down onto the floor.

"That was a close one," Davy commented.

Peter made some gestures and head nods.

"You said it," Davy responded. "I have the same suspicions."


	3. Chapter 3

"Micky!" Mike huffed as he was rushed inside the door. "What's the big hurry?"

The pair was met on the other side of the door by unwelcoming, suspicious eyes.

"Yeah Mick, what's your rush?" Davy mused. "Got a brilliant idea you need to engineer?"

"Um hi to you guys too?" Micky was caught off guard. "Why are you both sitting there creepily staring at the front door?"

Davy turned his hand over and began absently examining his nails. "Oh, no reason in particular."

Mike bit his lip trying not to say what he wanted to say, which was 'Just say what you're going to say already!' He was pretty positive that would be considered advice giving.

"There has to be a reason!" Micky seemed very restless and jumpy.

"You seem very tense and edgy," Mike commented.

"I'm not! And if I seem that way maybe it's from being under these prying eyes!"

"You were like this before we got here."

"Again, why are you so jittery?" Davy continued coolly.

"I…I was worried about a...sunburn!"

"You sure it wasn't because you had to see what was going on here?"

"Why would I want to do that? What's with the third degree?"

"I feel like it wouldn't bother you so much if you had nothing to hide," Davy said nonchalantly as he changed his gaze from his hand to the drummer.

Mike's face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I think Micky can answer that one."

"I don't know what you're getting at?" Micky's voice cracked a bit.

"Oh, but I think you do," Davy started sauntering over towards Micky. "I think you're aware that Peter and I had an interesting encounter today. Isn't that right, Mr. Tork?"

Peter nodded his head vigorously.

"What happened? I'm lost," Mike asked.

"Absolutely, Mr. Nesmith," Davy said in his best impression of a prosecutor. "Mr. Tork and myself were minding our own business inside when there came a knock upon the door. We were greeted by a striking young woman in need of automobile assistance."

"Sounds innocent enough," Mike reasoned.

"To the untrained eye," Davy continued as he led Micky to a chair to be cross examined. "It all did seem harmless until the woman became flirty with me…"

"That's not unusual," Micky interrupted.

"That's what I thought too, Mr. Dolenz. Until, the woman also mentioned a treasure map. Now if the jury would recall, Mr. Tork's vice is gullibility and mine is women. Two vices that this one woman coincidentally would have broken in one fell swoop."

"That is a coincidence," Micky said nervously.

"Save it, Mr. Dolenz!" Davy slammed his hands on the table got close to Micky's face. "We know that you attempted to sabotage myself and Mr. Tork in order to end the bet sooner, didn't you?"

"I…uh…um," Micky stumbled as he wrung his hands together.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"I…uh…um."

"How do you plead?" Davy pressed.

"N-n-n-ot…"

"You did it! You participated in sabotage didn't you? DIDN'T YOU!?" Davy interrupted and was becoming louder by the moment.

"Yes, I confess!" Micky flung his head onto the table and wrapped his arms around it. "I found this girl on the beach I knew had a crush on you and offered her a chance to date you in exchange for a favor. Are you happy now?"

"The prosecution rests. What's the verdict?" Davy backed away and stared at a stunned Mike.

Mike was dumbstruck and stared in awe. "Well with a confession, I gotta say guilty. Whatever that entails."

There was silence for some moments while everyone processed what had just taken place. It appeared that no one quite knew where to go from this point.

A loud sigh permeated the quiet space. "At the risk of breaking my own vice…I have a theory."

Everyone stared shocked at Peter who hadn't spoken in days.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this whole sabotage thing sounds like a plan. Like Micky had been thinking about it ahead of time."

Everyone continued to look at Peter unable to connect the dots that he was forming.

"Like Micky had a brilliant idea to sabotage us," Peter said plainly.

Mike and Davy turned to each other with their mouths open. The light bulbs went off in their heads.

"Yes!" they said in unison.

"No!" Micky exclaimed.

"I'm afraid so, Mick," Mike answered. "Looks like you're out."

"No that's not what this was!" Micky protested. "Brilliant plans take time and effort, this was just a spur of the moment thing! It wasn't brilliant!"

"An idea is an idea," Davy remarked. "And I believe that the term 'brilliant' is always used loosely when it comes to your ideas."

Micky stood up abruptly from the table with steam practically coming out of his ears.

"No reason to be mad, Mick. You did this to yourself. What's fair is fair," Davy said smugly.

"I don't have to take this!" Micky moved towards the closet and rummaged around before coming out with an armful of stuff.

"What are you doing?" Mike asked.

"Well since I am clearly out of the running for my own room, I am bursting at the seams with brilliant ideas. I'm going to my new shared room to make a jumbled mess."

"Sounds like retaliation to me," Peter said.

"Peter, you're very perceptive. No wonder you're still in the game."

"We still are sleeping in there you know!" Davy called after him.

With that Micky slammed the door to the downstairs bedroom.

"Apparently, he's setting up permanent residence in there," Mike laughed.

"Jokes on you, now I'm moving in with you," Davy decided as he ascended the stairs.

"Wait, what? You can't…" Mike immediately stopped talking.

Davy had turned around. "What's that Mike? Do you have something more to say? Because you can if you want to."

Mike held his lips tight and shook his head.

"That's unfortunate. Anyway, you haven't won yet so you don't get to have your own room for the remainder of the bet."

Mike rolled his eyes. "You're right." Mike went out onto the patio to no doubt scream expletives.

Peter was left alone in the common area. "And then there were three."


	4. Chapter 4

Since Mike was no longer allowed to give advice or "boss people around" as Micky put it, that meant he wasn't calling the shots in regards to rehearsals and jobs. The band hadn't had any gigs well before this whole competition started and it had been two weeks. Things were looking even more barren in the Pad than usual and someone had to take over the responsibilities. The problem was no one wanted to. Peter was afraid that someone would offer a job that wasn't really all it seemed and he would lose. Davy had become a recluse trying to avoid women and he was worried about meeting a girl at any gigs they may have. Micky was too preoccupied with his brilliant ideas, plus he didn't want to help the other three win the bet by doing things for them.

Mike was practically on the verge of a breakdown waiting for one of the others to take initiative. He saw the state of things financially and how the band could possibly deteriorate with no rehearsal time. He was wracking his brain to think of how he could subtly suggest that they get back to work. He would leave his notebook out opened to a page of a new song he'd written in hopes someone would read the lyrics and want to try them on for size. All that did though was cause Micky get more brilliant ideas from the new song titles. He attempted to leave Davy's tambourine and maracas in odd places so that maybe he would pick them up and his interest would be peaked. That only caused Davy to yell at Micky for continuing to touch his stuff. Peter was being too careful not to fall for anything that Mike didn't even bother approaching him.

In a last ditch effort, Mike devised a plan so ridiculous it was bound to catch the attention of three people that were almost always knee deep in shenanigans. He began drumming loudly and extremely off key on Micky's drum kit. He had never gotten the hang of the multitasking it took to be a drummer so this was the perfect way to rouse attention. Peter was sitting motionless at the table but was noticeably cringing as Mike continued the unmelodious beat. Soon Micky and Davy had both emerged from their now traded bedrooms covering their ears.

"What is that terrible racket?" Davy yelled coming over to Micky from the staircase. "I could've sworn it was your playing."

"Ha-ha, very funny," Micky remarked sarcastically before approaching the source of the noise. "Mike! What are you doing? You're going to punch a hole through my drums!"

Mike stopped playing and feigned a look of surprise at Micky's presence. "Oh hey, Mick. Didn't hear you come up. How did that sound? Do you want me to start from the top?"

Mike lifted his arms to make another loud strike. And Micky grabbed the sticks quickly.

"No! I don't want you to play these ever again, you're terrible. Why are you on my drums?"

"I was writing new songs and needed to decide on the music to go along with it."

"Well, why didn't you say we needed to practice? We would have…Oooooh."

"What?" Davy asked not understanding Micky's revelation.

"Mike can't tell us to practice because then he would lose the bet."

"Isn't hinting about what we should do still telling us what to do?" Davy countered.

"Not necessarily," Peter chimed in from his catatonic state. "Mike didn't tell us we needed to do anything. We decide on our own if we choose to move forward with joining him in rehearsal."

"He's right you know. Mike isn't outright telling us what to do," Micky offered.

"I don't mind continuing to practice by myself for the time being," Mike said grabbing a set of maracas and violently shaking them.

Davy snatched the maracas possessively and glared at Mike. "I don't agree with them, but I guess majority rules. I'm on to you though, Shotgun."

There was silence for quite some time before Micky spoke up. "Alright, I'll bite Mike. What song are you working on and what musical sound are you looking for."

"Oh no, no, no. This will be a collaborative effort. Wouldn't want to dictate everything that goes on here," Mike conceded with all his willpower. "Peter why don't you take a look at these lyrics."

Peter sat frozen in his spot. "I'm fine thank you."

"Jesus, it isn't a trick."

"I'll do it! As you may know I've been on a role with ideas lately," Micky started scanning the lyrics. "How do you feel about a kazoo solo?"

* * *

Mike was regretting every moment of this bet. He wished he could go back in time and boss himself around right now to undo the damage that was done. He was questioning if all this turmoil was really worth having his own room. It was more than that now though. Mike knew that this went beyond the dumb prize. It was a pride thing, but so was what was transpiring in front of his eyes. It was a battle of the dignity right now and he wasn't quite sure which should win his personal image or musical integrity.

The questioning started right after Mike had influenced the band to rehearse once again. Micky had taken the reigns as the leader, even taking Mike's hat to add insult to injury. Micky had all kinds of wacky ideas of how to approach the music to Mike's new song "The Girl I Knew Somewhere." He wanted kazoo solos that turned into kazoo/harmonica duets. He wanted every guy to take turns singing every other word. At one point he was even playing with the idea of scraping everything and the band going full blown a Capella. Thankfully, Peter stepped in and got everyone on the right track for the instrumental portion and the song turned out sounding amazing. Not before Mike was left with a resounding headache from Micky's tomfoolery. He was beginning to wonder if Micky had been doing that on purpose in the form of some sort of revenge.

Mike's initial plan had worked though, that rehearsal gave everyone a boost to begin getting serious about playing and finding work. And that had its own share of pros and cons. Pro: everyone was motivated, Con: this motivation minus Mike's direction was causing artistic differences and arguments. Pro: they wanted to look for work, Con: Peter and Davy were still hesitant to leave the house leaving the job search up to Micky. Pro: Micky found jobs, Con: all the good ones he found they were unable to secure due to various reasons (Davy dodging the club owner's daughter, Peter's muteness). Pro: they finally secured a gig, Con: it was at a rich kid's birthday party. Pro: the other three were taking things seriously, Con: their idea of serious was not the same as Mike's.

The gig was disastrous from the get-go. Micky of course had gotten the gig and there was no audition involved which is the reason they were able to get it. No one was keen on the idea of playing at a kid's birthday party let alone that of a spoiled, rich kid (they remembered what it had been like to deal with Melvin at first). But no one was going to deny the need for a fully stocked fridge. During the rehearsal process everyone had different ideas of what the set list should be, even the quiet Mike had his own planned in his head.

"Kids love toy trains, Clarksville should definitely be on the list," Peter urged.

"But the song isn't about toy trains; it has deeper meaning than that!" Davy protested.

"They aren't going to know that," Peter pushed back.

"I vote for no love songs," Micky chimed in.

"What? That's like my entire catalog of songs!" Davy complained.

"Little kids don't want to hear love songs," Peter agreed.

"What if they have little dates at this party?" Davy argued.

"Not everyone was like you and had girlfriends at three years old," Micky shot.

"Back to the toy idea," Peter interrupted, "Davy you could sing 'Cuddly Toy' for the kids."

"Are you insane?"

"What? It's upbeat and fun!"

"Peter that song is not appropriate for kids. We would be thrown out of there so fast," Micky explained.

"Well, I give up! No one will listen to me!" Peter took up his familiar residence at the table for when he was trying to avoid being swindled.

"Mike, what do you think?" Davy asked.

Mike put his fingers to his lips a mocked using a key to lock his mouth up and threw away the key.

"Oh come on," Davy whined. "Surely if we ask for your opinion that's not breaking the rules. Right, Mick?"

Mike shook his head. "I'd rather not risk it. Besides this is good for you guys. Welcome to a day in the life of being me."

"Being you is not all it's cracked up to be, my head is very hot in this hat," Micky pointed out. "I say we reconvene at another time."

"But the birthday party is tomorrow!" Davy exclaimed.

"That's plenty of time."

The quartet never did get together successfully to plan out the set list or to even rehearse any other songs at all. Every time they attempted to have this discussion, it turned out in the exact same way. It was stubbornly decided by all four (well not decided by Mike more like forced) that going into the situation blindly and reading the audience was the best option. And that was what was making Mike regret things at this very moment. Nothing was going right. They were all still bickering about what to play. Everyone thought their ideas were right and never agreed on anything. This caused all four guys to play and sing completely different songs at the same time. The crowd was booing and Mike thought he even heard a little voice say some words that were not kid friendly.

"This isn't working out," Davy hissed. "Would you all just listen to me?"

"Why should we listen to you? I'm not falling for that," Peter whispered back.

"Everybody stop talking!" Micky whisper/yelled. "Now we are going to play 'I'm Gonna Buy Me a Dog,' kids love dogs and that's the end of it."

Mike's eye began to twitch. That song was the one he had been swindled with and he had told the guys he never wanted to revisit that song again. The only times that they had ever practiced it Micky and Davy had made a joke of it which hurt Mike's feelings even more. Nonetheless, the music started playing and Mike kept rhythm. He couldn't cause a scene that would be breaking his vice.

Micky and Davy began their ridiculous banter. The kids seemed to be laughing at the display, but all Mike could think of was everyone laughing at him. His eye was twitching even more violently.

"_I just got back from Africa, you know? I was playing cards with the natives."_

_"__Zulus?"_

_"__No I usually won…"_

"Alright, that's it!" Mike interrupted the song as a quiet hush fell on the party. "This is getting out of hand! We are up here looking like unprofessional fools in front of all these people. Now we are doing the songs that I pick and I don't give a Texas prairie chicken if I lose the bet!"

"Uh, Mike," Peter snapped him back to reality.

Mike was in such a blind rage that he had forgotten where he was. He looked around and the kids were staring at him with tears welling in their eyes. Micky and Davy had their mouths wide open. And the parents at the party were scowling disapprovingly while going to comfort their children. The hosting father was huffing up to the bandstand.

"What do you think you're doing, yelling like that at my son's birthday party?!"

"He didn't mean anything by it mister," Peter explained.

"I'm sorry sir; I lost my cool for a minute."

"Well, you four have been terrible from the start. Get off my property!"

The father aggressively escorted the band off the premises. They were thrown outside the iron gates onto their backsides. Everyone dusted themselves off as they got off the ground and began to take their instruments to the car.

"My God, I feel so free right now," Mike exclaimed. "You all were a mess preparing for this gig and it took all my might not to say anything. But don't worry; I have weeks of pent up wisdom to give to you three."

"Fantastic!" Micky said sarcastically. "Aren't you mad that you lost?"

"I'm more bothered by the fact that I let you all run the show for so long. I'd rather have back my role than let you all run amuck."

Peter felt someone sidle up to him during the walk.

"Are you ready for this? It only takes two to tango," Davy whispered.

"Nice try, but it will take more effort than that to make me say something gullible like 'Gee Davy, I don't even know how to tango'," Peter mocked.

"This is going to be tougher than I thought," Davy moaned.


	5. Chapter 5

"When is this madness going to end?" Micky asked dramatically draping an arm over his face. "I miss the old days when Peter was wandering about with carefree abandon and Davy…"

"What about me?" Davy interrupted.

Micky retreated a bit to behind his drum kit. "…didn't bite my head off every time I spoke."

It had been six weeks since the bet had begun and there was a noticeable difference in the atmosphere in the Pad. Micky's chaotic energy was usual as was Mike's uptight attitude, but other things were amiss. Peter had all but taken a vow of silence and when he did speak he seemed to have more awareness about everything. It was almost as if he was a savant of other peoples' behaviors. It was unnerving, and if everyone was being honest Peter was becoming a bit pretentious about it. Like he wasn't one deception away from being right back where he started.

Davy was another story entirely. He had essentially barricaded himself in the Pad to avoid women. He was becoming stir crazy which manifested itself into fits of rage. Poor Mr. Schneider didn't even see those short legs coming at him. And he had broken six maracas and a tambourine during only one rehearsal session. Mike had given Davy rolls of toilet paper as a substitute until he could learn to control himself. It was obvious that Davy was doing his best not to take the anger out on the others, but there were only so many outlets for the expression of the rage and Davy had run out of ideas. Everyone was avoiding him as best they could.

"Enough is enough already," Mike chastised. "Now I know that we made this bet and all, but this is getting out of hand. You two are not yourselves and it is affecting all of us."

"Yeah can't we just call a draw or something?" Micky offered weakly still hiding.

"Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Davy snapped. "You all couldn't cut it so Peter and I are supposed to give up and no one is the winner. And that means that you all aren't the losers. I don't think so. I didn't put myself into this dry spell for nothing!"

"No one is saying that this was worth nothing," Mike chose his words carefully; "I'm just suggesting that we'll all be in a better place once the bet is over. And it would be better if it were sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, it's extremely hostile in here. Its harshing my mellow," Micky joked.

"Excuse me that we can't all live in a state of blissful ignorance not caring about other people!"

"Ouch," Micky cried holding his hand over his heart.

"Now that was uncalled for!" Mike scolded. "This is over! Peter what do ya say?"

Peter turned towards the others with his newly found blank stare. "I can't do that."

"Oh, so he isn't expected to give up but I am!" Davy yelled. "Why do you even want to win anyway? You said yourself that you don't want your own room."

"To prove a point."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! You're not proving anything by being mute. You wouldn't actually last if you had to actually go out and talk to people," Davy commented.

"I could say the same for you. When was the last time you even saw a girl?" Peter shot back. "Also, I must say that this bet has improved my ability to read people immensely."

"I guarantee that I could go out in public and last longer than you can."

"Prove it then!" Peter was getting fired up.

"Wait is this a bet within a bet now?" Micky asked confusedly.

"Yep, this is it. Winner takes all," Davy announced.

Mike shrugged. "Whatever gets this over with."

"We have to use the buddy system, I don't trust you," Peter announced narrowing his eyes.

"Fine, Mike can go with you to keep you honest and Micky can come with me," Davy offered.

"Wait, what?" Micky exclaimed. "I have to be around you for the next couple of hours!"

"Why? Do you have a problem with that?" Davy shouted.

Micky cowered down further. "No, no, no! I was just making sure I heard the plan right."

"Two hours," Peter set the parameters, "And you have to go to the places you usually do, no hiding out somewhere secluded."

"Deal!" Davy said shaking Peter's hand. "May the best man win!"

* * *

"I have to say that I'm really impressed, Shotgun," Mike complimented. "You were approached by three seedy characters and didn't even bat an eye."

"What can I say? Maybe I've learned something from this whole experience. I mean who would honestly believe that the guy was really selling the New York Yankees for $30?"

"Can't argue with that logic," Mike said opening the Pad door.

Davy and Micky were already inside. Micky was building some sort of contraption in the corner and from the looks of it he had been working on it for quite some time. Davy was sitting at the kitchen table slumped over with his head resting on his folded arms.

"You two seem to be back sooner than expected," Mike commented. "What's the verdict?"

Davy didn't even move to answer. Micky turned from his tinkering long enough to answer before turning back.

"He lasted a whooping fifteen minutes."

"What?!" Mike and Peter echoed each other.

Davy picked his head up off the table and looked defeated. "Peter was right. I only lasted so long because I was staying at home. I couldn't hack it out there. I saw these twins and it was all over for me."

"I looked on helplessly," Micky didn't even look up.

"He was no help at all," Davy stated. It appeared that all the anger had deflated from him.

"So this is really it?" Mike questioned.

"Looks like it."

"Congratulations, Shotgun. You won."

Peter stared in disbelief. It took a few moments for everything to dawn on him. Once the realization hit, a huge smile spread across his face. He began giddily hopping up and down.

"I won! I have strongest will!" Peter exclaimed.

"Can't think of anyone more deserving. Which room are you going to take for your own?" Mike smiled happy that this was over.

"I hadn't even thought about that! I didn't want to be too ahead of myself," Peter admitted. "Maybe…"

"Not so fast!" Davy interrupted.

"Huh?" Peter scratched his head.

"No need to decide since I just won."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked irritably.

"I didn't fall for any girls today, unlike Peter has just fallen for my plan," Davy explained. "You see Micky and I went out and talked about the possibility of no one losing and this continuing on for who knows how long. So we concocted a plan to sabotage Peter by making him believe he had won therefore falling for a ruse and sealing his fate."

Peter frowned and looked as though he was about to cry.

"Hold on," Mike swooped in, "that's not fair."

"On the contrary, my wool hat wearing friend, nowhere did we specify that we can't use deceit," Micky clarified. "The plan was foolproof…well not completely it wasn't Peter proof."

"Micky, how could you do that to me?" Peter asked.

"Simple, you threw a wrench in my win and I did it to you. An eye for an eye."

"Davy ruined it for you too!" Mike shouted.

"Yes, but Peter put the nail in the coffin."

"Oh you're the only person that sullied your win," Peter cried.

"Be that as it may, gentlemen, I believe I won fair and square…well depends on what your definition of fair is. Now I believe that, Mike will be moving downstairs," Davy said ascending the staircase. "I'll help you pack; after all I have a date coming over later to relieve my frustration if you catch my drift."

Micky continued working on his project as Peter and Mike stared at each other dumbfounded. Peter's eyes were misty. He was not only disappointed but also hurt that his friends could be so deceitful to him. Then he had a realization.

"Honestly, I surprised it took this long for someone to play dirty," Mike admitted.

"Not true, I tried to sabotage Davy and Peter at the very beginning," Micky countered.

Davy walked down the stairs holding an armful of Mike's clothes. "Don't be too heartbroken fellas. It's all for the greater good. And it will be fun to have two roommates instead of one…probably."

Davy passed Peter and was about to open the downstairs bedroom door when Peter's words paused him.

"Wait a minute, something isn't right."

"Peter, Peter, Peter," Davy shook his head and set the clothes down as he put an arm around Peter's shoulders, "there is no use trying to talk your way out of this one. I may have misled you, but all is fair in love and war."

Peter stepped out of Davy's grip. "That's the part I'm hung up on…love. How did you already have a date planned before you knew I was going to fall for your plan?"

Davy's face fell. "What?"

"Yeah, that wasn't making sense to me, because for you to have a date you would have had to talk to a girl about it beforehand, right?"

"That's right," Mike agreed catching on.

"Meaning that you would have broken your vice about girls before I even heard this preposterous lie," Peter explained. "Meaning that you actually lost before me."

Everyone looked at each other with wide eyes. It was true. No one knew what to say. This whole bet had taken more twists and turns than any of them had expected. And now the most unexpected winner had taken the crown.

Peter sidled back up to a stunned Davy and lightly patted his cheek. "Don't worry Babe; it won't be so bad with extra roommates, though you may want to rearrange that date tonight."

"You're right that perception has improved," Mike howled with laughter at Davy's misfortune.

Davy's face turned red and he was getting ready to slam his (shared) bedroom door. He paused to look at the pile of clothes he had brought down.

"Don't worry about Mike's clothes, I have a _brilliant_ idea of where we can move them," Peter announced triumphantly.

* * *

"Micky will you get your stuff out of my way please!" Davy complained. "I don't need the remnants of your failed attempts at building things all over my dresser."

Davy swept his arm across the dresser scattering nuts and bolts onto the floor. He started rummaging around the dresser and admiring his face in the mirror.

Micky sighed heavily from the lounging position on his bed. "Man, don't you love having multiple roommates instead on just one? I don't know what I ever did before I was graced with your charm on a regular basis."

"Hell, I've lived in a room with you, Micky, for years and I'm used to utter chaos in here. Just pick up those parts before somebody trips over them," Mike said

"Mike, Mike, Mike," Micky waved him off while he lounged on his own bed, "no one can trip on those they're too small."

"No but someone could slide on them, you twit," Davy continued his extensive before bed beauty routine.

"Such hostility!" Micky feigned shock. "We're going to have to set some ground rules in here now that you're living with us. Right, Mike?"

"Micky, if you don't even follow rules in here, what makes you think other people should have to?" Mike countered.

"I still can't believe that this is what we're stuck with," Davy continued complaints. "There is no room in here."

"Well there couldn't possibly be with all your high maintenance stuff in here," Micky grumbled.

"You're right," Davy said sarcastically, "There isn't as much room now for all your dub projects. Wouldn't want to let that brilliant mind be disrupted."

"Hey, guys what's fair is fair. Peter won and this was his choice," Mike reasoned.

"Knock, knock," Peter came traipsing through the bedroom door and slid on one of the bolts and falling to the floor.

"See Mick what did I tell you?" Mike scolded.

"Sorry to interrupt," Peter said getting up and rubbing his leg.

"Peter, you don't have to knock or apologize when you come in here anymore. It's your room too."

"Sorry old habits die hard."

"Explain to me again why we are all sharing a room instead of being in pairs or you having your own room," Davy asked.

"I didn't want to be alone in my own room and I love being around you all so much that this was my solution. We're all together, everybody wins!"

"You and I have very different definitions of winning," Davy said under his breath. "What about that other room too? Is it just supposed to stay empty?"

"It will still be available, now I'm using it for quiet time. It can get loud sharing a room with three of you."

"You know what would be quieter? Having your own room!" Davy shouted.

"When you win you can choose the living arrangements. We can always bet again for a single room," Peter joked.

"Not a chance," Micky said. "That was too stressful."

"You didn't even last that long!" Davy practically shouted again.

"Yeah well the rest of you were stressing me out."

"Okay you three, I've had enough jibber jabbering and am ready to turn in," Mike stated.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Micky put his hand on his forehead, "I had shared a room with Peter for that little bit of time and forgot that you are a grandpa and go to bed early."

Mike rolled his eyes. "I'm turning the light off. Good night."

There was the sound of movement in the darkness. Mike shuffled to his bed in the dark and got comfortable. He closed his eyes and was beginning to drift off.

"Pssst! Guys," Peter whispered.

There was grumbling from around the room.

"What is it Peter?" Davy asked not hiding the irritation in his voice.

"I'm glad we're all together. It's nice and comfortable. You're my best friends."

Mike smiled in the darkness. "Good night, Shotgun."


End file.
